(THIS STORY IS NOT LIKE FFA! IT IS SIMILAR BUT VERY DIFFERENT AT THE SAME TIME. I HAVE HAD A GOOD FEELING ABOUT THIS STORY AND I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY!)
Jughead Jones was born with a disease called, Emphysema(it is a Lung disease please don't come at...
A week went by very quick. Betty was up my butt the entire week trying to make sure I was doing all my treatments and making sure I was taking my medication. She even came to my Lung Scan! I can't escape her from anything. I know it's because she wants me to live...but there's no point because this is fatal if it gets to a certain stage. I was at stage 2 and it would only get worse from there.
I laid on the bed in the x-ray room as they took pictures of my lungs. There was a little glass window for the people to watch me. It was Betty, Dad, Mom, Archie, and Jellybean.
"Very good, Mr. Jones. Can you please come to the office with your family?" Dr. Smith asked. I nodded and then I went to the office. It was all of us sitting and heading what the doctor had to say.
"Alright, so I'm gonna show you an example of Jughead's lungs at the moment."
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"The bottom one's at the right are normal air sacs. One's like Betty's and Archie's. Jughead's are the one's on top of it." Dr. Smith sighed.
"What about all the medications and treatments we've been doing for him?" Dad asked.
"They're keeping him very stable and it's a relief that it is. But it's going to get worse over time and he's going to need a stronger medication and more treatments a day."
"What about the lung transplant?" Mom asked.
"Believe me, Mrs. Jones, we've looked everywhere for new lungs. Across Riverdale, the state, even the country! There's nothing. Thousands people are on the list for a Lung transplant."
"What about even just one lung!?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Jones! There is nothing-"
"We put him on the list at 13-years old! And you're telling me that there hasn't been one lung donor at all!"
"No, I'm so sorry."
"What's my life expectancy right now?" I asked. Everyone gasped and gave me dirty looks. My doctor asked for Archie, Betty, Jellybean, and I to leave the room and we did. But I put my ear up to the door.
"Dr. Smith...what is the life expectancy for my son?" Dad asked.
"We're looking at only 3 more years. He has been so strong and I'm so surprised he has came this far along! I remember when he was born and I told you guys that most likely, Jughead only had until he was 5-years old. He beat 13 more years after that. But Jughead...his lungs are starting to slowly fail."
"What do we have to do?!" Mom sobbed.
"I will do everything I can to find lungs for him. They usually go to Cystic Fibrosis patients more than anything but I can try and save him a pair. Until then, I'll give him stronger medication and instead of 5 oxygen treatments a day, he will do 8 of them. Nothing is going to happen to your boy, I promise. I advice you to let him just be himself and let him do as he pleases when his Emphysema gets to stage 4."
"Is it a Stage 3 yet?" I heard Dad ask. I hoped no and I really did wish it was no. I was relieved when she said what she said.
"No, not yet. But they will soon if I don't up his treatments."
"Ok, it was really nice seeing you." I heard mom say. And then we were off. My family and Archie went home and Betty stayed. She was once again up my butt and forced me to take 5 pills before bed and one 10-minute long treatment. Then I got my heavy oxygen mask on and drifted off into an not relaxing sleep.
